Paragon of Drinking
by ArtemisFallen
Summary: Oghren gets drunk and displays himself to the Warden and the others while Alistair is peer pressured into performing a song for everyone with unexpected results. A humorous one shot following the crowning of Lord Harrowmont as Orzammar's new King and the party at Tapster's that takes place after. Rated T for some suggestive situations and mild language.


The crowd was getting rowdy at Tapster's. Lord Harrowmont had just been crowned King and most of Orzammar was giddy with merriment.

Zakyla sat back and watched as the nobles gathered around an inebriated Oghren, congratulating him on the part he played in aiding in the selection of Orzammar's new ruler. Oghren drank slovenly, ale spilling down the sides of his face. He raucously raised his mug, toasting to the Stone, to Zakyla, and to himself.

Zakyla felt a pang of guilt as she watched him toss back his ale. She knew that somewhere deep inside that he was suffering. Even though he and Branka had been estranged, she had still been his wife. After everything he'd been through, he had been forced to make a decision in the end to fight with Zakyla against Branka. Zakyla had chosen to side with Caridin and destroy the Anvil of the Void. Branka had fiercely objected and attacked them. Zakyla did what she felt she had to do and she knew that the decision had taken its toll on Oghren. Yet, he suffered silently, or rather not so silently as he shrilly slurred out a Dwarven tavern song that made Zakyla cringe. He hid his despair behind his crudeness and his ale, but Zakyla knew his true pain and her heart went out to her newfound Dwarven friend.

Zakyla was still deep in thought as Alistair sat down beside her, two fresh mugs in his hands. He slid one over to Zakyla and followed her gaze. He grimaced as Oghren jumped up on the table across from them and began to dance as he serenaded the patrons of the tavern.

"Maker, that sounds worse than a Broodmother wail," Alistair exclaimed. Oghren turned to face him, lewdly grabbing himself in response to Alistair's comment.

Alistair wrinkled his nose. "Charming," he grumbled turning his attention to his mug.

"I think it's very entertaining," Leliana chimed in. Zakyla turned to see her, Morrigan, Wynne and Zevran approach them. Leliana plopped down on the bench beside her.

"Yes, quite entertaining!" Zevran agreed zealously, his eyes dancing with mischief as he and Wynne sat down at the table as well.

Morrigan looked scornfully about her surroundings. She appraised the bench with disdain, a sneer forming on her lips. "Is there nowhere to sit that has not been soiled upon?"

Zevran didn't miss a beat, smiling and patting his lap accommodatingly. "Right here, my lady."

Alistair scoffed into his mug at the comment.

Morrigan's eyes flashed dangerously and unamused. "I think I will be less likely to catch something sitting upon this filthy bench."

Alistair choked on his ale as he tried to repress his laugh. Morrigan glared at him. "Do you find this amusing?"

"No," Alistair coughed. "Not at all."

"Good, then keep your bodily noises to yourself, if you please." She derided.

"You keep your bodily noises to yourself," Alistair grumbled in lame retort unintelligibly.

Morrigan's dark gaze fell on him and Alistair averted his eyes down into his mug. Morrigan turned to Zakyla. "Must we associate with such people? I feel as if my skin is crawling with vermin simply by being here. I should have stayed at the camp with Sten."

Zakyla smiled good-naturedly at Morrigan. They had become friends, despite Morrigan's bitter personality. "I thought you wanted to get out of the Wilds and see the world?"

"The world, yes, not some stinking tavern buried in a hole in the ground," Morrigan grumbled, reluctantly taking a seat. She sat rigid and unmoving, as if moving too much would give her the blighted taint.

"There!" Leliana chirped happily. "That is not so bad, is it?"

Morrigan rolled her eyes at Leliana. Wynne decided to jump into the conversation. "It's only as bad as you make it. Why don't you try having a good time?"

Before Morrigan could respond with her usual tongue lashing, Oghren jumped to their table, wearing nothing more than his beard. Leliana squealed in surprise and nearly fell off the bench. Oghren chuckled sinisterly, blatantly jiggling about his man bits in front of the girls. Zakyla shielded her face from the frenzied gyrations of Oghren's hips with her hands.

"How do you like them nugs, ladies?" He bellowed.

"I think I'm going to be ill," Morrigan gasped, holding her hand up to her mouth.

"You're disgusting!" Leliana yelled shrilly. Oghren laughed loudly and jumped to another table, missing it entirely and belly flopped onto the floor with a heavy thud.

The group sat stunned for a moment, watching his unmoving body.

Alistair broke the silence, leaning over to Zakyla. "Dear Maker, can you believe how hairy his ass is?"

Zakyla snorted out a fit of embarrassed laughter only to be followed by Zevran and Leliana. Suddenly, Oghren jumped back up.

"Asschaps!" He screeched wildly, laughing maniacally. He took the the tabletops again before anyone could stop him. The tavern erupted in cheers and laughter. Finally, Wynne stood up.

"I'll get him," she said hurriedly, chasing after the drunken dwarf.

"Now that is not something you see every day!" Zevran remarked, still applauding in good spirits.

"We need some music in here," Leliana chimed in as she watched Wynne in her futile pursuit to capture and clothe Oghren. "It would provide a little distraction."

"It would seem that is all you think about, how to be the center of attention." Morrigan snipped.

"Well, I don't have to be the one singing," Leliana answered sweetly. "Alistair, why don't you sing?"

"Me?" Alistair yelped, his mug banging against the table. "What makes you think I sing?"

"Well, you were training to be a Templar and song is a rich tradition in that training. You must know some of the Chantry minstrels," Leliana coaxed.

"Oh, no, no, no," Alistair chanted. "There's not enough ale in this whole tavern that would make me get up there and sing."

"Thank the Maker for small favors," Morrigan sighed. Alistair gave her a childish sneer, which she returned just as childishly.

Zakyla chuckled. "Not enough ale in the whole tavern? That's a shame. I would have liked to hear you sing."

"Really?" Alistair asked, a pink hue crossing over his cheeks.

Zakyla grinned leaning into Alistair's ear. "I am incredibly attracted to a man who can sing and play an instrument. It does things to me, fills me with insatiable desires." She gently nipped his earlobe for effect. When she pulled away, she could see the pink hue on his cheeks deepen to scarlet.

Zevran rapped his knuckles on the table. "Then I will sing and play for you!"

Zakyla gaped at him. "How did you hear that?"

"I was listening, my dear Warden," Zevran winked. "Intently."

Alistair ran his hand nervously through his hair. "I don't know," he mumbled.

"I do," Zevran announced, standing. "For you, Zakyla, I will sing, play and dance." He reached out, grasping her hand and kissing it. "As your desires so demand it." He grinned lasciviously.

Alistair's flush of embarrassment soon turned to a flush of anger. He stood as well, glowering at Zevran. "I believe I'll take the stage first."

Zevran grinned, putting his hands up in defeat. "Alright, suit yourself. I am not one to show up another man."

Alistair scowled at Zevran for a moment before grabbing his ale and downing the rest of it. He turned and stomped towards the stage. He stopped mid-stride and hurried back over to the table, grabbing Zakyla's mug and downing the rest of her ale as well before he continued to the stage.

"How did you know that would work?" Zakyla asked Zevran.

"An educated guess," Zevran said, a self-satisfied smile plastered on his handsome face.

"And if it didn't?" Leliana inquired.

"Well, given that I don't sing very well or really play, you would have gotten a dance very similar to our Dwarven friends display," Zevran smirked. "Except, I am far better endowed, if you know what I mean."

Leliana blushed fiercely, which pleased Zevran to no end. Morrigan groaned in disgust. "What madness have I gotten myself into this time?"

Zakyla giggled and turned her attention to Alistair who had made his way to the stage. He stood nervously, his hand brushing through his hair absentmindedly. Zakyla loved it when he ran his fingers through his hair. It was something she quite enjoyed doing to him as well.

"Quiet! Quiet, you spew swilling maggots!" One of the nobles cried. "The Grey Warden has something to say!"

The tavern quieted several moments later after a few more derisive shouts and leers. The lingering remnants of Oghren's chuckles floated through the dense air as Wynne wrapped him tightly in canvas, having abandoned her quest to get him into pants.

Alistair shuffled his feet, his eyes quickly surveying the expectant crowd.

"Oh, this just got intriguing," Morrigan whispered happily, a wicked grin spreading to her lips. "He looks as if he might try to flee." She was immensely enjoying Alistair's discomfort.

"He won't get past me if he does," Zevran shot back. "Come now, Alistair," he shouted. "What do you have in store for us, my friend?"

Alistair shot Zevran a hateful look. His eyes nervously set upon Zakyla. She gave him a smile of encouragement.

Alistair took a deep breath. "I would like to sing and play for you tonight a song I learned from Duncan, my friend in the Grey Wardens."

The crowded bar began to cheer and clap their approval and Alistair cheeks darkened even more. A patron brought him a chair and a lute.

Alistair held the instrument as if it were going to bite him. Zakyla began to feel a growing dread in her stomach. Alistair stepped back, knocking over the chair. He stumbled, clumsily retrieving it and setting it upright. The tavern roared in laughter. Zakyla bit her lip nervously. No amount of magic she possessed could save Alistair from himself.

Alistair sat down and plucked unsteadily at the strings of the instrument. He cleared his throat several times and hummed off key as he tried to match the note he was strumming.

Zakyla covered her face with her hands. "This is going to be a disaster!"

Morrigan leaned forward, her evil smile still broadly shining on her face. "This night might not be a loss after all."

Leliana clasped her hands together anxiously, her gaze darting between Alistair and Zakyla.

The crowd in the tavern shuffled restlessly, the tension beginning to grow.

"Sing, will ya, lad!" Someone shouted.

"Sing, pretty boy!" Oghren hiccuped.

"Sing! Sing! Sing!" The crowd began to chant. Zakyla glared unhappily at Morrigan and Zevran, who had instigated the chant.

Alistair raised his eyes and scanned the ravenous crowd, fear shining through them. "I, um, I…"

"Oh, no," Zakyla murmured, guilt piercing her for pushing him into going up on the stage. She was nearly to her feet to put an end to what seemed to be an inevitable massacre when Alistair began to play the lute.

Soon a soft melody began to float over the crowd. The dulcet tones quickly sedated the tavern and Zakyla stared in marvel as Alistair's hands moved with grace and expertise over the strings of the instrument.

The melody was both melancholic and beautiful, but it was nothing compared to what came next. Alistair opened his mouth and began to sing. His soft voice flowed powerfully with the somber notes, haunting Zakyla in the most exquisite way.

" _Neath the moon of endless night_

 _We heroes of old again unite_

 _Take up your bow, take up your blade_

 _Our glory shall never fade_

 _Vigilant we stand amidst the fight_

 _Sacrifice is our duty, Sacrifice is our right_

 _We stand together to against the Blight."_

Zakyla felt her lips part in wonderment as she watched Alistair play and sing. He sang the words with such confidence and grace, she almost felt he had written the song himself. She glanced over to see Leliana and Zevran gawking at Alistair. She was even more surprised to see Morrigan wearing a shocked expression as well.

Zakyla turned her attention back to Alistair. His eyes were closed and his brow knitted in concentration as he sang the words. His expression was a mixture of pride and pain as he sang the story of the Wardens. Zakyla's heart swelled at the passion of his song. Alistair opened his eyes and his gaze locked on her as he continued to sing.

In an instant, the tavern melted away and Zakyla was left alone with Alistair as he sang to her and only her. She felt the warm blossom of love spread through her chest as she realized that Alistair truly was only singing to her. She was hypnotized by the movement of his lips and how his fingers expertly found the perfect chords to match the beauty of his voice.

If it were at all possible, Zakyla loved him even more in that moment. She saw him in his music. Even though he was strong, he was also incredibly vulnerable. She was reminded again that he was everything that she had ever wanted. It almost frightened her to realize in that moment that he was her entire world and she would do anything and everything within her power to protect him.

Zakyla felt her heart shatter as the music ended, the last note of the song lingering sadly in the air. She reluctantly shook herself from her reverie. She'd been enjoying their private paradise and she wasn't ready to return to reality. A dull ache of inexplicable loss settled in on her chest as the words of the song resounded in her head.

Alistair sat on the stage nervously, his fingers idly tapping on the lute as his gaze flickered around the tavern. The drunken patrons, including his companions, sat in a stunned silence that seemed to echo loudly. Alistair was no bard, but he had put many of the ones Zakyla had heard to shame. Finally, she stood up, crossing the tavern slowly and walked up to Alistair on stage.

He stood up, nervously bumping against her, his eyes anxiously twitching over the crowd. "Was it that bad?" He whispered. His eyes finally met hers. "Are you… Are you crying?"

Zakyla reached her hand up, caressing his face. "It was beautiful," she whispered. "As are you." She leaned into him, kissing him softly.

Alistair pulled back slightly in surprise. He was always a little uneasy when it came to public displays of their love. Zakyla refused to release him, pushing into him harder and wrapping her arms around him, her kiss deepening.

The tavern silence was shattered in an instant and the air erupted with applause and whistles of admiration. Zakyla slowly broke the kiss, pulling back and tracing her thumb lovingly over Alistair's lips. He grinned lopsidedly.

"I love you," she whispered.

He grasped her hand in his, kissing her fingers. "And I, you."

"Get a room!" Zevran yelled jokingly at them.

Zakyla's violet eyes burned with desire as she gazed longingly at Alistair. "Oh, I intend to."

"What? Now?" Alistair exclaimed, flustered.

Zakyla grasped his hand firmly. "Yes, now. Bring the lute."

Alistair grinned from ear to ear. "Well, I… um… Who am I to argue?"

He allowed her to pull him off the stage and they were followed by wolf whistles and words of encouragement. As they passed Morrigan, Alistair was pleased to see she had resumed her repressed and sullen state.

Alistair took a moment to lean down to her, brushing against her ear. "Admit it, you were picturing me naked up there."

Morrigan pulled back, repulsed. "I would never!"

Alistair grinned. "I saw you. You want me."

Morrigan groaned in disgust.

"After that performance I know I do," Zevran said jokingly.

Alistair gazed bewildered at Zevran. "I don't know what to do with that," he said.

"Well, I could show you. Preferably you and the lovely Warden at the same time?" Zevran teased.

"I don't think so," Alistair said coldly.

"Or I could watch," Zevran continued. "Give you pointers?"

"No," Alistair growled sternly.

Zevran let out an over exaggerated sigh. "You try to help out a friend and this is the thanks you get. Oh, well, there's always more ale."

"I wanna pony!" Oghren yelled as he streaked through the tavern, once again naked. Wynne clamored behind him, chastising him as she chased the naked dwarf around the tables.

"Could someone please help me restrain him?" She called out desperately.

Zevran jumped up. "This reminds me of a game we had back in Antiva where we would try to tackle and tie up a greased pig." He eyed Oghren. "And that one looks pretty greasy already."

"I believe I am done here!" Morrigan cried, flinging her hands up in the air. "I have had enough adventure for one night. Enjoy your filthy cesspool of degradation." She stalked out of the tavern quickly.

"I think the party's just getting started," Leliana said happily. "I think I'll stick around and watch the show."

Zakyla gripped Alistair's hand. "Speaking of show, I'm ready to show you how much I enjoyed your performance. Harrowmont was generous enough to allow us a room at the palace. Shall we?"

Alistair's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Lead the way."

"My offer still stands firm, my friends! Very firm!" Zevran called after them. Alistair waved his hand dismissively as he and Zakyla left the tavern.

"Oh, well," Zevran shrugged. "If you can't have the beauty, might as well take on the beast." He gazed at Oghren who was using a chair to fend off his would be captors. Zevran looked over to Leliana. "I am going to need a length of rope if I am to properly tie him. And for the love of Andraste, help me find a pair of pants. I've seen enough of his 'nugs' for one evening."

Leliana sighed. "He's traveling with us now. I'm sure there will be plenty of evenings where we are exposed to his privates again."

"Yes, I fear that is true." Zevran rubbed his hands together. "Oh! And I will be needing some rashvine powder."

"Rashvine powder?" Leliana inquired. "What for?"

Zevran's eyes gleamed wickedly as he watched Oghren. "Get me those pants and I'll show you."


End file.
